


You Still Get to Be The Hero

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Role Reversal, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15011870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: Sammy’s never been on time for anything in his life, but he makes sure he’s at least ten minutes early for the show on the day the new producer gets there. He’s from Los Angeles or some fucking place like that. Sammy has no idea why he’s in King Falls, but he’s probably a total dick.He’s Ben Arnold, who runs into the radio station with four minutes to spare before they go on, his frame absolutely tiny, looking like he’s about sixteen years old.Well. Sammy takes in his disheveled appearance with a raised eyebrow from where he’s pouring himself a cup of coffee. He’s definitely not what Sammy was expecting.





	You Still Get to Be The Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Notes at the end!

Sammy’s never been on time for anything in his life, but he makes sure he’s at least ten minutes early for the show on the day the new producer gets there. He’s from Los Angeles or some fucking place like that. Sammy has no idea why he’s in King Falls, but he’s probably a total dick.

He’s Ben Arnold, who runs into the radio station with four minutes to spare before they go on, his frame absolutely tiny, looking like he’s about sixteen years old.

Well. Sammy takes in his disheveled appearance with a raised eyebrow from where he’s pouring himself a cup of coffee. He’s definitely not what Sammy was expecting.

Ben blinks over at Sammy. Sammy’s not really what he was expecting either. Merv had emailed him earlier that week, said that Sammy would be hosting the show he’d been hired to produce, that he was a local guy who had been at the station for a few years, but bounced from job to job there, mainly hosting, but had been in all the timeslots at some point, never sticking anywhere.

Ben was thinking they’d be of a similar age, but Sammy looks a few years older, and has a kind of professionalism to his demeanor that Ben’s been trying for years to get right, but his loud and abrasive personality has never quite let him.

“What’s up?” Sammy greets as Ben pants, gesturing with the coffee pot in Ben’s direction. Ben nods rapidly, his eyes going wide. Sammy grabs another cup from their one dilapidated old cupboard with the hinges that squeak, and pours coffee in.

He hands it to Ben, who gulps the entire thing down before handing it back with relieved smile. “Oh my God, thanks so much, dude, you have no idea how much I needed that.”

“You’re…Ben Arnold?” Sammy blinks at him. He does not look like a crazy successful producer. He looks like he’s counting down the days until his high school graduation.

“Yeah, you’re Sammy, right? The host?” Ben holds out a hand to shake. His hands are tiny. So is the rest of him. He can’t be taller than five foot five.

“That’s me,” Sammy nods. Sammy’s like half a foot taller than Ben, at least. Ben hates tall people on principle. Well, except Emily, but that’s different. “You’re hosting with me though, right?”

Ben’s eyes, impossibly, grow wider. “Oh no, I’m just a producer, I couldn’t –”

Sammy laughs a little nervously. “Yeah, but c’mon – crazy successful and lucrative producer guy like you hasn’t hosted anything before?”

“Just like, my college radio station, nothing professional, it’s really not my expertise –” Ben babbles a bit as Sammy jerks his head toward the recording booth, waving Chet Sebastian off as he pulls himself into one of the seats, Ben following suit in the producer’s chair, experimentally running a hand down the board.

“Welcome to King Falls AM, you’re talking to Sammy Stevens, new to this timeslot, but you know me from Chet’s Jazz Corner, the Evening Briefing, and the ever-exciting weather and traffic reports,” Sammy doesn’t give Ben time to blink before he adds, “and joining me is our new producer and new member to the King Falls community, Ben Arnold.”

Ben blushes, it’s kind of cute, and leans into the microphone. “What’s up, King Falls? I’m more used to being behind the scenes, but I guess it’s only fair to introduce myself. Benjamin Arnold, California born and raised, but super excited to be in King Falls. Can’t wait to get to know you all a little bit better.”

“But not too much better,” Sammy half-jokes. “Don’t scare him off with any ghost stories, guys, you’re better than that.”

Ben grins. “Oh man, don’t tell them that! Ghost stories are the best! And shouldn’t you be calling them apparitions anyway?”

Sammy almost facepalms. “You’re kidding. Finally, I get to talk to someone from out of town and even _you_ use King Falls’s favorite vernacular.”

“You don’t believe in apparitions?” Ben asks, conspiratorial. “Are you a King Falls native?”

“Born and raised,” Sammy says with a vindictive shake of his head. “And I’ve been dealing with this all my life, so let me tell you – the ghosts don’t care what you call them. Because they’re not real.”

“You don’t believe in the stories?” Ben says. It’s all he’s seen when he’s looked at King Falls online – story after story about the strange, the paranormal, the supernatural. He’d always loved stuff like that, maybe a little too much.

“I don’t believe in anything I can’t see,” Sammy says, and Ben immediately interrupts.

“But ghosts are see-through!”

They both laugh, a weird mix of mocking and genuine.

“You one of those supernatural fanatics who comes into town for a few minutes to check out all our local hauntings?” Sammy asks, mostly kidding but it’s happened before.

“No, no,” Ben corrects his course, even as his heart thumps unpleasantly. “I was tired of the city, needed a change. Needed something real. And I’ve always wanted to live in a small town.”

“What?” Sammy asks, the concept utterly foreign to him. He’d kill to have a producer gig in Los Angeles. “ _Why_?”

“You don’t like it here?”

“Well, you know, I’m used to it,” Sammy says, his usual hedging kind of not quite lie. “Always something to be said for the devil you know.”

Ben’s face falls, just a little, and Sammy quickly says “But I’m sure you’ll like it. Most residents love it here, even with its…weirdness.”

“So you admit there’s weirdness?”

“It’s a weird place,” Sammy confirms, deciding not to expand, Ben will figure that out on its own. “Folks, I’ll open up the phone lines so we can give Ben a nice, warm, King Falls welcome. Don’t let me be the one who has to introduce this place, because it won’t be pretty. Bring some positivity to our night.”

Ben smiles as the phone lines light up – it’s good to do something he’s used to, something he knows.

“Line two, you’re live,” Ben says cheerfully.

“You make it up the mountain alright, Benny?” A familiar voice filters through.

“Hey, Troy,” Sammy greets the deputy warmly. Troy’s become a pretty good friend over the years, balances out Sammy’s cynicism with his pure faith in humanity. “Did _Benny_ have some trouble getting up here?”

“It’s Ben,” Ben corrects them both, blush staining his face again. God, Sammy knows he’s got to be older than a teenager, but he still looks just like one. “And yeah, I got really turned around and Deputy Troy helped me out. He said it was an apparition! General…something. I don’t know.”

“Abaline,” Sammy says with a derisive snort.

“How d’you explain the changing road signs if not for Abaline, Sammy?” Troy asks. It’s one of their usual arguments that generally happen over pancake puppies at Rose’s or late night drinks.

“The Williams boys,” Sammy says promptly and Troy laughs. Ben’s eyebrows narrow in confusion.

“They’re a gang,” Sammy explains, while Troy muffles a _don’t call them that!_ “They cause mischief and mayhem. I think they’re behind every crazy thing in this place.”

“Except the lake monster,” Troy says and Sammy nods sagely.

“Kingsie’s legit,” Sammy says to Ben. “I would never knock Kingsie.”

Ben’s face is delighted. “I _have_ to meet this lake monster.”

“I’ll let you boys go, I just wanted to check in with Benny there,” Troy says, and Ben mutters _it’s Ben_ under his breath. “You’re way too sweet to be some hotshot producer, kiddo. Hope I see you soon. Night, Sammy.”

Sammy wishes Troy goodnight as well and Ben leans into the microphone. “For everyone listening at home, I’m really excited to meet you all soon, but my name is _Ben_ just for further reference. I know I look like I’m about eighteen but I really am twenty-five.”

“I was guessing thirteen,” Sammy says, just to be a piece of shit, and Ben kicks his legs under the table.

Ben’s a sweet kid – well, he’s not a kid, he’s a man. Sort of. But he’s got a distinctly kid-like quality about him, the way his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when someone starts going on about something paranormal-like, especially when Finn calls in about the rainbow lights out on the road. Ben loves that, it looks like a dream come true for him, seeing the lights flashing outside their tiny window.

It’s new, Sammy’ll give King Falls that. At least it’s giving Ben – not Benny, not kiddo, Ben – a proper welcome to town.

Sammy isn’t taking the lights too seriously – they’re annoying, they’ll keep him up at night, they’re certainly not any worse than General Abiline – but then Tim Jensen calls in.

Tim was a year behind Sammy in school, the nicest guy you’d ever meet, Sammy had even been sort of friends with him, and Sammy barely had any friends in high school. 

“They’re just above the road, coming closer, I can’t –” Tim says, his voice growing more and more paranoid, tight, terrified. Ben’s heart is threatening to jump out of his chest. Was this what Emily felt like when she –

Tim screams, the feed is cut, he and Sammy both stare down at the board, unsure how to make their next move.

Ben breathes out shakily. Sammy wordlessly reaches for his cell phone and dials Troy.

* * *

 

Ben likes Sammy a lot, though he can’t figure out what his deal with King Falls is.

The guy’s gotta be about thirty – if he hates the town so much, why hasn’t he just left? Sammy’s disparaging toward King Falls at every opportunity, though Ben thinks he can hear some love and affection underneath all of the snark and sarcasm.

Ben supposes he can’t judge, because he’s sure Sammy can’t figure out what his deal with King Falls is either. It’s not like Ben’s been super transparent about what he’s doing here.

What he’s said is truthful enough – he produced shows for celebrities, the celebrity culture is fake and meaningless to him, and he came to King Falls because he wanted to do something real and meaningful.

That’s half the story though, and maybe Ben can tell the whole story someday, but the words keep catching in his throat, even though every time he thinks about Tim Jensen disappearing into thin air, he thinks about Emily Potter.

But he’s got a job to do, and suddenly that job isn’t just producing but actually being on the air with Sammy – and it’s not because Sammy isn’t good enough to do it alone, the guy’s a natural, better than half the hosts Ben’s worked with out in Los Angeles. He thinks Sammy likes having someone to bounce off of though, and Ben’s happy to play sounding board.

Setting up interviews lets him get to know the town better too, and he can’t help but think how much he’d love it here if only he were here with Emily.

“Hey, so Jack Wright’s coming in tonight,” Ben tells Sammy as the two of them have their customary cup of coffee before the show starts. “He’s the head librarian at King Falls Public Library. _Such_ a nice guy, he’s starting an after-school reading program for elementary kids and also coaches Little League football. How cute is that? I love small towns.”

Sammy almost says something sarcastic about how Ben should try living in one for thirty years of his life, but he figures uncomfortably that Ben would probably be fine with it. Ben was ordinary and happy and not in a self-hating spiral like Sammy had been for most of those thirty years.

But Jack Wright shows up thirty minutes into the show and then Sammy can’t think properly enough to come up with anything remotely witty to say.

“Welcome to our lovely town’s head librarian, Mr. Jack Wright,” Ben says as Jack comes into the recording studio. He’s got wavy brown hair, blue eyes, dimples, fuck, Sammy thought he’d gotten over this shit years ago and nothing could have this effect anymore, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, he hates himself more than ever.

“Nice to meet you, Ben,” Jack shakes Ben’s hand from across the table as he takes the seat next to Sammy. Why is the open seat next to Sammy? Who thought that was a good plan? “And you, Sammy.”

Jack reaches a hand out to shake with an open grin. Sammy takes it, tries not to enjoy it.

“Sammy was just telling me that he hasn’t been in the public library in twenty years,” Ben says and Sammy wants to kill him. “Saw your old librarian with a copy of _Mein Kampf_ and never came back.”

“I’m not making it up,” Sammy glares at Ben. Jack laughs. Sammy likes the sound. Fuck. “Mrs. Kilpatrick was the devil in disguise and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“She was a character,” Jack says, mouth twitching. “And she got a little batty before the library burned down.”

“It _burned down_?” Ben gapes, and Sammy corrects “Only part of it.”

“Renovations are complete, though, so it’s time to get everyone back inside,” Jack says. “The rumors about the apparition of President Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth are unsubstantiated at best.”

Sammy knows Ben well enough by now to know he’s going to be excited, and of course he is, quickly launching into a sprawling discussion about the history of apparitions in King Falls that Sammy mostly tunes out of because he’s trying not to stare at Jack and that’s taking up most of his mental capacity.

Ben can tell Sammy’s a bit zoned out, but he doesn’t mind – Jack seems like such a great guy, and it’s nice to feel like he has a place in this town. He hasn’t felt like he had a place in a while, not since Emily.

* * *

 

Ben’s gotten the vibe that Sammy doesn’t really have many friends, since Sammy’s perfectly happy to spend most of his time with Ben.

He has another job at the King Falls Gazette as a fact checker – _extra cash, I’m trying to move out of town, remember?_ – but when he’s not there, he hangs out with Ben, which Ben loves. Working mainly for celebrity hosts meant that he was almost never friends with anyone he worked with, and never had enough time to make friends anywhere else.

Ben’s missed having friends.

But then they’re at the King Falls Annual Bass Tournament – Ben thinks the small town events are just the _best_ – and Sammy and Ron the fisherman have a very complicated handshake that’s clearly been honed and practiced over the years.

“I taught him that,” Sammy says with a laugh at Ben’s surprised noise as they finish the handshake. “It’s not often I get to be the young, hip one, but I take advantage when I can.”

“You may be younger than me, but you’ll never be hipper,” Ron says solemnly before cracking a huge smile and pulling Ben into a gruff bear hug. “What’s up, kid? You really do look about thirteen.”

Sammy snorts. Ben shoves his shoulder.

“Welcome to the show, Ron,” Ben says in lieu of responding. “So you’re the owner of the Bait and Tackle and you put on today’s event – that’s gotta be a big job.”

“Oh, it’s my biggest event of the year,” Ron says, and continues on about the importance of the bass tournament to the local economy. Ben listens attentively, but Sammy tunes him out. He’s got the spiel memorized by now, he’s heard it often enough.

He realizes he’s looking for Jack in the crowd, and then quickly stows that feeling and tries to refocus his attention on Ron.

“So glad we got to speak with you today, Ron!” Ben says when Sammy taps his watch. He’s falling a little short of his hosting duties, but Ben’s a natural. He’ll be fine. Sammy had figured having a bigshot producer behind him would make him feel like someone was always breathing down his neck, judging his every move, but being with Ben feels natural, like he’s Sammy’s kid brother. Sammy’s never really connected with someone like that before. “Thanks for coming out for the end of our broadcast!”

“Coming out?” Ron repeats, and Sammy groans. “Is that a gay joke?”

Sammy shoves at Ron before Ben can respond, presumably in a babble. “Don’t bully him, Ron!”

“What? What did I say? I didn’t mean to, Ron, honest.” Ben’s so fucking genuine it’s kind of ridiculous, but Ron quickly laughs him off.

“I’m just teasing, Benny, I like to give everyone shit,” Ron says, and Ben’s button goes right to their bleeper. “Don’t  take it personal, I’m just on the defensive about gay jokes in particular. Just because I’m the only man in this town who…”

Sammy’s gut churns uncomfortably. He hates this spiel in particular, because even though it isn’t really directed at him, it kind of is.

His brain hates him and starts thinking about Jack again.

But then those thoughts all stop when someone screams _there’s a body in the lake!_ and Ben goes deathly pale.

Sammy has to race to practically pull Ben back from the water, pushing through the crowd to grab at Ben’s shoulder, looking down at a soggy man, black and blue, not breathing, in the riverbed. Ben sags back against him in – what, relief?

Ben only breathes once he sees the body, the abject terror that he felt slowly fading away, but not disappearing entirely. Having Sammy next to him helps, feeling the warm weight of Sammy’s arm on his shoulder.

It helps more than he can articulate, actually, especially because when he turns around to hug Sammy, Sammy doesn’t ask any questions and just hugs back.

* * *

 

Looking back, that’s the moment Ben knew he was going to tell Sammy about what happened, though it took him another couple of weeks to actually do it. There just was never a good time to drop that on someone.

He ended up doing it over a shared plate of pancake puppies at Rose’s – Sammy wasn’t going to get anything, on a budget he said, Ben immediately shoveled half of his plate onto Sammy’s – after Sammy mentioned their endlessly awkward interview with Dr. Rosenbloom.

“Zombies are just a little much – I mean, sure, gun to my head, maybe I believe that there’s one or two ghosts in town that are legit, but not zombies,” Sammy says, gesturing a bit with his hands. Ben’s always been a hand-talker, but he knows Sammy only does it when he’s feeling comfortable, and Ben is happy to see that he’s started doing it when they’re hanging out alone together. “To think that that John Doe is actually –”

“The John Doe really freaked me out,” Ben interrupts, heart in his chest, wringing his hands together, a nervous habit he’d never broken.

“I noticed,” Sammy says, his concern evident. “I know you came to King Falls just in time to see Tim disappear, and now this John Doe – but like, the reasons I don’t like King Falls have nothing to do with crime rates or paranormal abductions. It’s generally pretty safe here.”

“Safer than Los Angeles, I’m sure,” Ben tries for sardonic but it comes off exhausted and shaky, and Sammy blinks at him slowly, waiting for an explanation.

“I know you think I’m crazy for moving here,” Ben starts, not knowing quite how one is supposed to articulate something like this, “and you probably still think I’m here as a paranormal tourist. I’m not – I swear I’m not. I’m here because – well, because, oh fuck –”

“Hey,” Sammy says, realizing Ben’s about to start crying, recognizing the hitch in his breath. “It’s okay. I don’t care why you’re here – I’m happy you’re here, obviously, if nothing else then to save me from having to spend another minute on Chet’s show. But…you’re my friend. You can tell me anything.”

Sammy actually means the words. It sends a warm feeling down his spine. He’s never really had a friend like Ben before. He’s had friends – being in a small town, you pretty much have to be friends with everyone, or at least friendly with them – but no one quite as close as Ben.

It’s odd. He’s known most people in King Falls all his life, but Ben’s the only one he’s made this genuine connection with. Maybe he needed it.

“My – my girlfriend,” Ben starts, a little choked up. “Emily. She – she disappeared a few months ago. I thought maybe – maybe she came here. We were talking about moving here – getting out of LA for good. But then she just vanished. The police don’t have any leads. She didn’t have enemies – she was the sweetest person in the world, I don’t know – know who’d ever want to hurt her. But she’d been reading up on King Falls, looking into the paranormal stuff, she said she was getting voicemails from someone here – I thought maybe if I came here, I could find a lead. But I haven’t. Haven’t found _anything_.”

“Oh, Ben,” Sammy says, and says fuck off to all of his carefully constructed boundaries to move from his side of the booth to Ben’s, put his arm around Ben without even thinking about it, let Ben cry into his shoulder for a couple seconds. “Fuck, I can’t even imagine. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Ben sniffles. “I’ve just been so scared. Every time something happens, I think it might have something to do with her. That she’s here, that she’s in danger. But I don’t know what to do. I can’t find her anywhere.”

“We’ll look, then,” Sammy says, not even hesitating. He’s always been able to help other people, even if he’s never once helped himself. “I’ll help you look. She has to be somewhere, right? And in King Falls, you never run out of nooks and crannies.”

“I’m sorry, there’s snot on your shirt,” Ben says as he pulls away, genuine as ever, and Sammy just laughs.

“Least of my worries,” he says, and Ben feels so grateful that he has someone who he can depend on. He came here expecting to be all alone, but he wasn’t – he had Sammy, and that meant the world to him.

* * *

 

“– and on our list of guests for tonight’s show, we’ve got an interview scheduled at the end of this hour with Deputy Katie Lynch about the necessity of learning how to parallel park – I’m from Los Angeles, it’s much more important there, but I see your point – and then in the five o’clock hour, an interview with Jack Wright, who you know as our librarian, but is coming in to talk about this year’s Little League season.”

“Little League?” Sammy interrupts with raised eyebrows. “Really, that’s our topic for tonight?”

“Just because you and I can’t play sports doesn’t mean that they’re not worth talking about,” Ben drums his fingers on the table, even though he doesn’t exactly believe that. But Jack Wright is an awesome guest, and he and Ben have gotten coffee more than once, and Ben really likes the guy.

He actually gifted Ben a book about the history of the supernatural in King Falls, authored by some town patriarch, after Ben had told him he was here looking for Emily.

He wasn’t really talking about it on the radio unless it came up naturally, but the town as a whole new, because Ben was looking for clues everywhere now, asking anyone who had any information to call him and tell him what they knew about Emily Potter.

He hasn’t found anything concrete yet – mostly five or six calls from Doyle Bevins about a cacophony of screaming witches in his attic – but he gets a lot of calls into the show about how sweet he is, how committed, how lucky his girlfriend is to have someone like him.

Ben doesn’t tell them they were engaged, doesn’t even tell Sammy, because it hurts just a little too much to get those words out right now, without her here.

“What does a librarian know about sports anyway?” Sammy snipes, a little meaner than usual, and Ben frowns at him. “Aren’t they supposed to be sworn enemies?”

“Yeah, in movies about high school cliques,” Ben says. “But dude, do you hate Jack or something? Like, I get you have a vendetta against this town, but don’t take it out on Jack. Take it out on – oh, Cynthia. Or Pete! Goddamn Pete. No offense, Cynthia and Pete. But Jack is so cool, man. He’s the nicest guy ever.”

Sammy turns about six shades of red. It’s kind of funny.

“I don’t _hate_ Jack,” Sammy says stiffly, making it sound like he absolutely does hate Jack. “I’m just not a library person and I’m not a football person. But that’s just my tastes, I’m sure the listeners would love to hear from him about…sports.”

“Did you play any sports in high school?” Ben asks, and a hundred mortifying snippets of mostly blocked out memories flash through Sammy’s mind.

“I’m from a small town,” Sammy says as an answer, then adds, “no football, though. I played in middle school and got a concussion and never went back. Strictly cross country, and the worst member of the team.”

“Run, Forrest, run!” Ben says, and Sammy flips him off. They dissolve into laughter. “Did you at least go to any football games? I went to football games in high school, but only to play in the marching band.”

Sammy snorts. “Well, don’t tell me you played the tuba because I won’t believe you. It weighs more than you do.”

“The clarinet,” Ben says, unashamed, and Sammy groans.

“No,” Sammy says, “I did _not_ go to football games.”

A part of Sammy that needs to shut up reminds him that Jack Wright played football for Big Pine’s high school in the same year as him, and maybe if he’d gone to a game he could’ve witnessed that, but he quickly blocked that out because Jack Wright himself would be here soon and he was mentally preparing himself for an early morning of decidedly not thinking about anything.

* * *

 

“– tell Mary, my wife, tell her I love her – and the kids, please tell –”

Tim’s voice cuts out. Ben feels like he’s going to be sick.

Sammy can tell how distracted he is, but it really hits home when Ben asks after a few minutes of shock, “Do you – do you think maybe Emily could call in? If Tim could do it…”

They don’t normally talk about Emily on the radio, but tonight is different, heavier, harder. Sammy answers honestly. “I don’t know. We don’t know…where she is. If it’s with the rainbow lights or with – something else.”

“I don’t think it’s the lights,” Ben says slowly, thinking it through rationally instead of jumping to conclusions, even though every part of him wishes fervently that Emily could just call in and say anything, just a word, just so Ben knew not to lose hope. “With Tim – the lights were there. Right above him. There were no lights with Emily – she was just gone. The car was running out front. The door was open. But she was just –”

Sammy reaches across the table to squeeze Ben’s wrist. Ben’s good at breaking down his barriers, physical and otherwise. “I’ll look into it, alright? I’ll do some research. You just – go home after the show, get some sleep.”

Ben’s a research machine, he never really stops whirring, but he’s shaken enough that he does as Sammy says – well, Sammy forces him to, he drives Ben home and gently bullies him into it – before he heads over the King Falls Public Library and pulls out as many former Gazette articles as he can, scanning for mentions of either the rainbow lights or disappearances into nothingness.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he jolts up from the passage he was reading when Jack Wright touches his shoulder, a friendly smile as he passes Sammy a cup of black coffee.

Sammy looks at it, then up at Jack, thinking this must be a delirium-induced dream.

“You don’t look like a cream and sugar kind of guy,” Jack says with a small grin, and he pulls out the chair next to Sammy. “You’ve been staring at the same page for like half an hour now, so I figured you could use a cup.”

“Thanks,” Sammy says cautiously, noting the chipped mug he was using, not just a paper cup. He wondered if Jack had made the coffee himself. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“You’re helping Ben, right?” Jack says, a hand reaching out to flip through the article Sammy has up right now. “Helping him find his girlfriend? You’re a good friend. I’ve been trying to direct him to some helpful stuff here, but the truth is, we don’t keep the best records in this town…”

Sammy isn’t quite sure what Jack says next – he knows it’s intelligent and charming and perfect – but the actual words are far beyond him.

He starts coming to the library more often, usually with Ben in tow, always in the name of research, and Jack will sit with them most days helping however he can.

“Isn’t Jack just the best?” Ben says on their way out the door after closing. Sammy has to get to his job at the Gazette. He checks facts for them. He hates it. He likes the radio station, though. “I’m so glad you don’t hate him anymore.”

Sammy tries to say that hating Jack was never, _ever_ the problem, but instead he says “I guess I can get over my library-and-sports-based traumas for at least a few hours a day.”

Ben laughs. It’s a joke. Sammy kind of wishes he got the other thing out, but he knows that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

* * *

 

“You can’t be serious, Ben! You like _Mission Apparition_?”

“What’s wrong with them?” Ben asks, an innocent look on his face. Sammy has never been more disappointed in his best friend. “They do an entertaining show! I mean, they seem legit, right?”

“They’re not legit,” Sammy says, letting his head thump against the table for dramatic purposes before angling back up to talk into the microphone. “They don’t know anything about what they’re doing – they’re using Proton Packs and only talk about dust particle boners –”

“It’s a part of the charm!” Ben argues and Sammy groans. “Anyway, folks, tune in next Friday for our interview with Mission Apparition live from the King Falls Public Library –”

“Are you _serious?”_

 _“_ Jack already said he’d let us in!”

“As long as you don’t make me…”

“Oh, you’re going down there.”

“No,” Sammy says, “absolutely not.”

“But _you’re_ the host. And I, as you often call me when you’re annoyed with me, am some _big city hotshot producer,_ so I’m producing a show with you and Dan and Larry from Mission Apparition down at the library. End of. Don’t argue. Don’t even try.”

“You’re doing this to spite me,” Sammy tells him and Ben grins, wide and toothy.

“Absolutely!”

Sammy half-wonders if this has anything to do with Jack, but he doesn’t let himself think about that for long. It is, after all, an excuse to see Jack, an excuse for him to be on the show. He never calls in. Sammy sometimes thinks maybe it’s because Jack might feel the same way, want to keep whatever’s happening between them as discreet as possible.

But that’s wishful thinking – Jack probably just sleeps during the night like most people.

Still, he’s going to be at the library for this show, and even if Mission Apparition deserve to have their show expunged from the record of human history, Sammy gets to spend an extra hour with Jack. Probably worth it.

* * *

 

Not worth it.

Dan was an asshole and Larry was an idiot, as Sammy was already well-aware just from watching their show. But then Dan had made some kind of insinuation – God, Sammy couldn’t even remember what it was now, only that it had something to do with how long his hair was, and Jack had butt in to defend him and Sammy had backed away from the group to get some air and suddenly some demonic being had a chokehold on him.

His eyesight is quickly going, his circulation cutting off as he gasps for breath, trying to say something, anything, to get _anyone’s_ attention and suddenly there’s a shout and everything goes a little dark –

But then he can breathe again, and finds he’s on the floor, hearing shouts above him, feeling himself be hauled upward and dragged away.

“What the fuck?” Sammy mutters, his voice not quite working properly. “What the _fuck_ was _that_?”

“John Wilkes Booth,” he hears Jack say grimly next to his ear, and he realizes too late that he’s propped up against Jack’s shoulder as Jack drags him out of the building. “Maybe he mistook you for the president?”

“Seems unlikely,” Sammy manages to joke, hears Jack laugh, and kind of lets himself lean on Jack’s shoulder because he’s just been put in a chokehold and isn’t in control of himself, obviously, there would be no other credible reason.

“That was sweet!” Sammy hears Larry say as cool air hits his face. They’re outside the library. Swaying slightly, Sammy moves away from Jack, missing the contact already, but the paranoia that’s accompanied him all his life is seeping back into his every movement.

Jack looks at him from the doorway, concern evident in his face as Dan and Larry whoop and yell at each other about how _fucking sick_ that was in the parking lot in front of them.

“Are you alright?” Jack asks. He doesn’t reach out, but Sammy thinks that maybe he wants to. Sammy takes a step closer to him.

“Yeah,” Sammy says, his voice sounding a little croaky, but he manages to crack a grin. “If I die in King Falls, I’m gonna be really pissed. I don’t want to come back as a ghost.”

Jack shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. “So you do believe in apparitions.”

“I believe in…something,” Sammy admits, and Jack grins at him. Sammy probably wouldn’t say that to anyone else, not even Ben. “I don’t know.”

“You that desperate to get out of King Falls?” Jack leans against the library’s door and gestures for Sammy to join him. Sammy hopes it’s locked, but finds he doesn’t mind, and joins Jack there, their sides inches from touching.

“No,” Sammy says, the night scaring the dishonesty right out of him. “I say I am. But I’m not. For all of its weirdness, this place is home and if I left, I’d miss it like hell, even for all of the shit it’s put me through –”

He cuts himself off, a shiver running down his spine. Jack cocks his head curiously at him, telling him he can go on.

Sammy can’t, though. He can’t. He’s been trying for thirty years now, but it’s just not going to happen for him. He’s accepted the fact that he’ll be silent forever.

“But it’ll always be home,” Sammy says, reminded forcefully of the only time he’d ever left King Falls, and just how badly that had gone. “It’s what’s familiar – and now Ben’s here, and you’re here –”

Jack’s smile brightens and Sammy has to look at the ground.

“Sammy?” Jack says, his voice soft and fond, and Sammy cannot get his hopes up like this. “I’m really glad you’re alright. I was – so scared, before, that you weren’t going to be.”

“Oh,” Sammy says stupidly, not knowing how to reply, but his entire body feels several degrees warmer. “I – thanks.”

He can’t fucking articulate anything properly, but luckily the whirring of Troy’s sirens cuts off any further conversation, even if Sammy is slightly more confident in the fact that Jack might actually like him, too.

Not that he’s capable of doing anything about that, but it’s nice to know.

* * *

 

Ben comes into their last show before Christmas break a couple of minutes late – it’s a good thing Sammy was on time for a change. Ben’s never late, but Sammy doesn’t ask on air, just sends Ben a questioning look when he bounds in the door. He looks cheerful, maybe even excited, his smile wide and beaming.

“Folks, Ben Arnold is finally here and looking a little too pleased with himself,” Sammy says into the microphone. “Is this just about the break, or…?”

Ben shakes his head as he pulls his headphones on. “You won’t _believe_ who I met today.”

“Uhh…drawing a blank here,” Sammy says. “It’s King Falls and you’ve been here for eight months, surely you must’ve already met every single person in town.”

Ben’s practically vibrating he’s so excited. “No – I was down at the mall and went to that frog place to eat – never going back, I fucking hate eating frogs – but I met this guy there. Dressed in red, long white beard, belly like a bowl full of jelly…”

Sammy makes a distinct throat-cutting motion but Ben’s smile only falters for a second. “The listeners can’t you see you telling me shut up, Sammy.”

Sammy sighs. “It’s a delicate subject, Ben, we shouldn’t talk about him on the air.”

“So you admit that it’s Santa!” Ben says triumphantly, pumping his fist. Sammy half-glares at him, but it’s affectionate.

“I admit to nothing,” Sammy says. “Only that the man in question has requested the utmost privacy regarding all of his personal business.”

“He’s legit,” Ben proclaims, clearly ignoring Sammy. “He knew so much about me – what I’d gotten for Christmas every year, the place I lived when I was a kid, he even asked me how my mom was doing. And then we got to talking about Emily – he knew all about her.”

“Oh,” Sammy says, deciding to stop the defensive for now, because the look on Ben’s face is a cross between joy and bone-crushing sadness as he plays with the strings on his hoodie. “I’m glad.”

  
“I just – no one here ever knew her,” Ben says a little softly. “It’s nice to talk about her with – with someone who…”

“I didn’t know Emily,” Sammy says slowly, trying for his best approximation of comfort. “But if you love her, then I know she must be amazing. And you can talk about her to me whenever you want, buddy.”

“Thanks,” Ben says, his eyes soft around the edges. He’s so young – he doesn’t deserve for something like that to have happened to him.

Sammy’s eyes are wide and genuine on Ben’s – Ben knows Sammy isn’t exactly the best at emotional conversations, but it means a lot that he’s willing to try. Sammy’s the best part of his life now, his snarky cynicism and unwavering support and everything. Ben doesn’t know what he’d do without Sammy. Break into a million pieces and never get himself right, probably. Certainly never pull himself together enough to find Emily.

“Her birthday’s coming up,” Ben decides that he’s going to keep talking, and once he starts, he knows he won’t be able to stop. “She’d be twenty-six.”

“Is twenty-six,” Sammy says quietly, and the correction makes it easier on Ben to breathe as he internalizes it.

“Did I tell you how we met?” Ben asks and Sammy shook his head. “I was producing a show for – well, I’m not gonna namedrop. A big name celeb. Emily was his personal assistant – we met at this cocktail party where I embarrassed myself completely by spilling a margarita all down my suit. Emily pulled me into the back and gave me the backup suit for the guy she worked for – it was like three sizes too big, he totally noticed I was wearing his suit, but it was worth it.”

“That’s adorable,” Sammy says, the soft and besotted look on Ben’s face something that Sammy doesn’t see often, only when Emily’s name comes up, and even then it’s usually in regards to her disappearance and not the life she lived before. “We’ll find her, Ben. Don’t give up.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, the idea of spending Christmas without Emily weighing heavily on him – but at least there was Sammy.

Realizing that Ben’s done talking for now, Sammy quickly says, “folks, let’s open up the phone lines. What are your plans for Christmas this year? Hope you’re all spending it with your loved ones.”

They field a couple of calls from Herschel and Cecil, along with a ribbing session from Troy, but there’s a call that stands out more than most.

“Hey there, it’s Greg Frickard,” a voice crackles on the other line and Sammy holds in a sigh.

“Hi, Greg,” he says, monotone, rolling his eyes when Ben gives him a look. Greg had been a freshman when Sammy was a senior, and Greg had always had a reputation for creepy and possessive behavior towards women, even then. Which was nothing on what happened between him and Sammy, but still. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“I just heard Ben talk about Miss Emily Potter,” Greg says, and Ben gives Sammy and uncomfortable and mildly alarmed look. “And she sounds like quite the lady.”

“She is,” Ben says slowly, and then opens his mouth to say something else but just ends up shaking his head in Sammy’s direction with a confused look on his face.

“I’d love for a chance to meet her,” Greg says and Sammy groans internally. “If you need any help at all in returning her safely to King Falls, let me know.”

“Thanks…Greg,” Ben says, tentative, but Sammy knows Greg better than that, and glares at the phone. “I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’m sure everyone in town will let Ben know if they can do anything to help,” Sammy cuts Greg off. “Thanks for the well wishes, Greg.”

“She sounds like just about the most perfect girl –” Greg starts, but Sammy drops the call and goes straight to commercial.

“Sammy?” Ben blinks over at him, but Sammy just shakes his head.

“That guy’s bad news,” Sammy tells him. “Any help he wants to give you has an ulterior motive. He’s the creepiest little…”

Ben lets Sammy go off for a bit – the Greg guy _had_ rubbed him the wrong way, but there’s a distinct anger to the way Sammy talks about him that makes Ben think there’s something deeper going on. He doesn’t question it though, because Sammy doesn’t really like to talk about that kind of thing.

They finish the show up without any major problems, and Ben messes with his backpack for a couple minute as an excuse to talk to Sammy for longer. Not having the show for two weeks will be tough on him, it’s a constant in his life that he needs to keep going. Well, maybe Sammy’s the constant, but the show helps too.

“You’re going to your mom’s in California, right?” Sammy asks conversationally, an excuse to say something, since he wants to make sure that Ben’s gonna be alright for the next couple of weeks without the show.

“Yeah,” Ben says, and then makes a split second decision. “Do you wanna…come with?”

Sammy blinks at him, face a little confused, but also affectionate, which Ben hopes is on its way to being a yes.

“I mean, sure,” Sammy says, and Ben grins, wide and happy. “But…it’s your family Christmas, I don’t want to…infringe? I…”

Sammy’s floundering. No one’s ever asked him to spend Christmas with them before, friend or otherwise. He’s never _had_ a friend like Ben who just completely absorbed Sammy into their life without question. It’s odd, sometimes uncomfortable, a little disquieting, but it’s also wonderful in a way Sammy’s never felt before.

“I was thinking about asking you for a while,” Ben explains, half looking at Sammy, half at the ground. “But then something that Santa said today – I was saying how rough Christmas was going to be for me without Emily, and he said that you’re lonely at Christmas, too.”

Sammy turns pink, biting his lip. Ben knows Sammy doesn’t like to admit to having feelings of any sort, but he feels like this is something they should talk about, that it’s important to Ben being the best friend to Sammy that he can.

“I mean, if you have family here, of course spend it with them,” Ben adds hurriedly. “I just thought…you never talk about any family…”

Sammy braces his shoulders and unsticks his throat. “My dad’s been gone a few years, my mom’s retired down to Florida. I – I’d rather spend Christmas with you.”

Ben grins, and Sammy knows he’d do just about anything to see Ben smile like that. “Awesome! I’m driving down this weekend. I’m so – I’m so happy you’re coming, Sammy, you couldn’t believe how happy I am.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sammy half-grins, but when Ben crosses the room to hug him, he hugs back tightly, gratefully.

“So Santa was right,” Ben says slightly muffled into Sammy’s shirt. Sammy just nods. “Why are you lonely? You have this community around you, you’ve had it all your life, is it just not…”

Ben lets go of Sammy as he trails off and Sammy figures that articulating _something_ about his messy, complicated relationship with King Falls isn’t going to kill him.

“I just don’t fit here,” Sammy says with a shake of his head. “I never have. I _wanted_ to fit here, I _tried_ to fit here but I just didn’t. I never really had close friends – was never on good terms with my family – I’ve wanted to leave King Falls all my life.”

“Then why…?” Ben asks, and Sammy has to take a breath before answering.

“I did leave, for a few years,” Sammy says, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. “Went up to Denver, worked as a – fucking shock jock, but that went…horribly.”

Sammy can’t even think about Denver without wanting to crawl inside himself and rot, so he quickly clears his throat. “It was easier coming back, I felt like at least King Falls already thought they knew me pretty well. And I became better friends with Troy and Tim and then…well, you…”

Ben smiles, bright and affectionate. “So do you feel like you fit in better now?”

“No,” Sammy says. “Not with the town, but – at least with you.”

Ben’s never been one to shy away from his feelings, so the second he feels it, he blurts it out. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I love you, dude.”

The look on Sammy’s face is torn between bright and happy and completely disbelieving. Ben’s gonna have to work on that last bit, but Sammy says “I…thanks, I…love you, too.”

Ben doesn’t think Sammy’s ever said that to anyone before. He feels lucky that he was the first.

* * *

 

“I _cannot_ believe – _cannot_ believe – this town outlawed April Fool’s Day! It’s the best holiday of the year!”

“Take it up with Gunderson, not me,” Sammy laughs at the look of utmost hurt and betrayal on Ben’s face. “You can always go tag along with the Williams boys for the day, commit some light crimes.”

“No thanks,” Ben wrinkles up his nose. “Troy, you won’t arrest me for possessing a whoopee cushion, will you?”

“Oh, you’re going to jail for life,” Sammy says. “You’re never getting out.”

Ben kicks at him under the table, Sammy bites his lip to keep from laughing too hard.

They haven’t made any significant progress in the search for Emily – right now, they’re mainly just ruling things out, hoping that something eventually sticks, but they’ve yet to find anything in the town records that parallels Emily’s disappearance.

Ben’s learning to live with that, though – he’s trying as hard as he can to save Emily, but he’s learning to breathe without here, and it sucks, it sucks so incredibly much, but having the show and Sammy is what gets him breathing properly, waking up in the morning and keeping going.

He knows that for as much as Sammy’s helping him, he’s helping Sammy too – Ben feels like he’s gotten Sammy in a good place. He quit his second job at the Gazette because he hated it, and doesn’t talk about leaving town anymore. Ben doesn’t want to be arrogant, but he thinks that maybe it’s because of him.

Which it is – Sammy would probably even tell Ben that if he asked, though he’d deny it to anyone else. It’s also kind of about Jack, because Sammy is verging on sixty percent sure that Jack might feel the same way about him. Not that Sammy’s going to ask or anything, because that’s gone horribly for him before, but he thinks maybe by this time next year he’ll know for sure one way or the other.

He sees Jack pretty regularly, usually along with Ben since Ben and Jack are friends too, but sometimes it’s just the two of them for coffee or drinks or just sitting at the library. Jack never calls into the show, but he talks about it sometimes so Sammy thinks that he listens some nights, which makes him feel all kinds of warm, fuzzy, and somewhat panicked things.

 After the Great April Fool’s Day Debacle, Tim Jensen shows up in Archie Simmons’s backyard, so Sammy doesn’t even have time to think about Jack for a couple days, constantly in and out of the sheriff’s department and Jensen household, questioned relentlessly by Gunderson about what happened, even though both Sammy and Ben have absolutely no idea.

Plus, there’s the unimaginable strain this puts on Ben, who has a hopeful gleam in his eye the whole time.

“It’s proof that _someone_ can come back,” Ben says from their usual breakfast spot at Rose’s, half vibrating in his seat as he chugs his third cup of coffee that day. Sammy doesn’t have the heart to cut him off. “Even if they weren’t taken by – by the same thing, someone came back. A missing person was found. It – it happens for some people. Maybe it can happen for Emily.”

“Of course it can happen for Emily,” Sammy reassures him. Sammy’s never been an optimist, but he knows that Ben would do anything to get Emily back, and his faith in Ben outweighs his cynicism. “We’ll find something soon – a clue, a lead, _something_.”

“Can we go out to Perdition Woods this weekend?” Ben asks. “It looks like our most promising lead so far and– I don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Sammy says, even though the thought of Perdition Woods makes his insides crawl and has ever since he was a kid. “Not to the Devil’s Doorstep, though – I’m not letting you get close enough to that to get hurt.”

Ben opens his mouth, presumably to argue, but then he catches sight of someone behind Sammy and waves. “Hey, Jack!”

Sammy blushes involuntarily as he turns around. Jack’s in the doorway, waving back at Ben, and then he looks at Sammy. Sammy might be imagining it, but he thinks that maybe Jack’s gaze was a little softer on him. Probably not real, but nice to consider.

“Hey guys,” Jack comes over to their table, smiling. “How’s it going?”

“Alright,” Ben says and Sammy says “Why are you here so early?”

Ben glares as if Sammy said something rude, but Jack shrugs it off with a laugh. “I’m on my way out of town – got a long drive to go see my sister for a few weeks.”

Ben starts to say something generic about how fun that sounds, but Jack’s looking at Sammy and Sammy’s caught between looking at Jack and the ground, settles for staring just beneath Jack’s eye, and Jack says “Actually, I’m really glad I ran into you, because I forgot to ask someone to water my plants. Sammy, can I give you a key to my place? You’d just have to stop once every few days.”

“Yeah, of course,” Sammy says, his heart thumping louder in his chest for some reason.

“Come out to my car with me and I’ll grab my key,” Jack says, jerking his head in the direction of the door. “I’ll see you later, Ben.”

“Bye!” Ben waves them cheerfully out the door, Sammy a step behind Jack, insurmountably nervous even though he doesn’t know why.

Jack turns when they’re next to his pick-up. He’s got a hand shoved in one of his pockets, an awkward smile on his face. “So I don’t actually _have_ any plants.”

“Oh,” Sammy says, feeling like maybe he did something wrong here. “Why –?”

“I just wanted a second with you without Ben,” Jack says, his cheeks going a little pink. “I was actually wondering – do you wanna like, get coffee or something? When I get back to town?”

“I – yeah,” Sammy says, and thinks he might black out or something equally ridiculous. “Yeah, definitely.”

“I am asking like, like a date,” Jack says, more looking at Sammy’s ear than his eyes, his smile going wider and more awkward, but Sammy thinks it’s cute. “Am I – am I reading this wrong, or?”

“No,” Sammy says, laughing, kind of breathless and so relieved that Jack’s a braver person than he is. “You’re – you’re not.”

“Good,” Jack says, practically beaming at him, his shoulders relaxing. “I’d wanted to ask for a while but – this is King Falls. It’s usually better not to take the chance.”

Sammy laughs, tries not to let it sound so bitter. “Oh, I’m all too aware.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you when I get back then?” Jack says. “I don’t have an exact date– probably by May. I’ll – I’ll text you, alright?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Sammy says, knowing that he’d still want to if Jack didn’t get back until next May. “I – text me before then, alright? When you – when you get to your sister’s.”

“Definitely,” Jack says, lighting up.

They don’t hug goodbye, but they brush hands for half a second, and Sammy’s pretty sure that it’s the most intimate and meaningful gesture he’s had with someone before, and he has to try extremely hard not to look too giddy when he comes back into Rose’s and sits down with Ben.

“Got the key?” Ben asks, nonchalant, and Sammy doesn’t realize what he’s talking about for half a second.

“Oh – yeah,” Sammy says. “Got the key.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate Jack anymore,” Ben says, sipping his coffee. “I think you guys could be really good friends.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Sammy says, laughing, feeling lighter than he’s felt in years.

* * *

 

“Welcome to the show, folks, t’s May first, and certainly you know what that means – it’s the one year anniversary of when Mr. Ben Arnold moved to town and invaded my life permanently and for the better. A round of applause, a round of applause.”

“Shut up,” Ben shoves at Sammy, but the sight of Sammy relaxed and laughing makes him happy. He’s been dreading tonight, the memory of Emily flitting further and further away from him – more than a year, it’s been more than a year since he’s seen her face – but having Sammy there to laugh and joke with helps, and certainly the fact that he’s known Sammy for a year is worth celebrating.

“Everyone, please call in with your favorite Ben Arnold stories tonight, we know you have them,” Sammy says and Ben groans loudly and dramatically. “ _My_ personal favorite has to do with a call I got at eleven at night that I needed to come over and kill a spider in his apartment.”

“Which you didn’t,” Ben adds emphatically. “You called _Troy_ to come kill the spider.”

“A truly amazing use of our police force,” Sammy says with a sage nod. “Give us a call at –”

“Don’t forget to call with your favorite Sammy Stevens stories, too,” Ben adds. “I want all the embarrassing elementary school ones.”

“You’re cruel,” Sammy says, leaning across the table to flick Ben’s forehead. “No one needs to hear stories about me, everyone already knows them all.”

“Well, I have a Sammy Stevens story,” Ben says and Sammy’s lip twitches, but Ben’s actually planning on making this a little more emotional than he’s sure Sammy will be comfortable with. “Once upon a time, I was in a terrible place in my life and decided to move to King Falls. I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet – but I found a best friend, so I…I can’t help but think all of this happened for a reason. So that I could meet you. Cue the tears and waterworks.”

“Shut up,” Sammy retorts back, but he actually does look a little emotional, and he even reaches across the table to touch Ben’s arm for half a second, which is as physically tactile as he tends to get. “I’m sorry for the reasons you ended up here but – I’m glad I met you, too. Here’s to another year together, where hopefully you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“Should we toast? That felt like a toast kind of speech,” Ben says, holding up an imaginary glass. He and Sammy knock hands. “Anyway, enough sappiness for the night. Folks, we wanna your favorite stories about us because we’re arrogant and want our egos blown up.”

“Or we just want to hear embarrassing crap about each other,” Sammy corrects. “You think we can get Betty Arnold to phone in long-distance and tell some great Ben-related elementary school stories?”

“Low blow, hands above the waist, please,” Ben says as Sammy protests “You literally just told the listeners to tell _my_ elementary school woes!”

“Line five, you’re live on King Falls AM,” Ben takes a call from Troy, who launches into congratulations. That’s one of their lighter calls since the next two have to do with projections of the rainbow lights out in the cemetery, and Sammy knows that’s wigging Ben out, so he tries to drop them as soon as possible to make the night a little lighter than usual.

Sammy’s already gotten emotional out loud, he’s not going to again, but he hopes Ben knows how much Sammy loves and appreciates him. Sammy’s not good at saying how he feels, but he thinks Ben might understand without Sammy having to say anything.

Ben drops an annoying caller and gestures to Sammy that it’s his turn to pick. Sammy readjusts his headphones as he says “Line thirteen, you’re live on King Falls –”

“Hey? Sammy?”

Sammy blinks a couple of times at the familiar voice, exchanging a concerned look with Ben. “I – Jack? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Jack’s voice exhales shakily. His voice is shaky, higher-pitched than usual. “Thank God you picked up. I – can you come and get me? My car just broke down on Route 72 and – and there’s lights above me.”

“What?” Sammy and Ben ask at the same time. Ben’s thinking of Tim; Sammy can’t think at all.

“The rainbow lights?” Ben asks, and Sammy doesn’t give Jack time to respond.

“What are you close to? I’m coming right now,” Sammy says, scrambling in his coat pocket for his car keys.

“ _Shit_!” He hears Jack say, and his heart drops. “Don’t – don’t. Don’t come, please don’t, the lights are getting closer – I think they’re coming for me.”

“Coming for you?” Ben asks, his eyes wide. Not someone else – fuck, please not someone else –

Anyone but Jack, Sammy thought, anyone but Jack. “I’m coming anyway – your car’s broken down, you’re a sitting duck – maybe there’s still a chance –”

“Nope,” Jack says, his voice still terrified but no longer panicked. It sounds resigned, defeated. That scares Sammy even more. “They’re almost above me – there’s this – there’s this beam – I’m really not gonna make it. Oh, God.”

“Jack, please,” Sammy says, desperation bleeding through his voice, but he honestly can’t care about how he sounds right now. “Please, just run or –”

“I’m really sorry,” Jack says, his voice shaking but there’s something laughing about it, too. “I’m not gonna make our date this weekend. I – I really wanted to. You’ll remember that? That I really wanted to?”

“Jack, don’t,” Sammy says, strained. Ben stares at him, but he can’t look back. “But – of course I’ll remember. I – Jack, I l –”

“It’s here, it’s above me, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Jack’s litany of curses is broken off by a scream, painful and agonizing to hear.

The line goes dead.

Ben and Sammy stare at each other across the table. Sammy can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t do anything.

Ben reaches for the phone.

* * *

 

It’s been two weeks, and Ben doesn’t know what to think.

He knows what it’s like to lose someone important to you, but he hadn’t realized how important Jack was to Sammy. He’d thought that maybe they were friends, a little more than acquaintances, but he never would’ve guessed that Jack disappearing would cause Sammy to break like this.

Sammy’s not eating, not sleeping, barely shows up to work and when he’s there he’s only staring at the board as if willing Jack to call in, say anything. He doesn’t look at Ben when Ben talks to him, and Ben is pretty sure he knows why.

He heard Jack say the word _date_ after all. It’s not a very ambiguous word.

But he doesn’t say anything because Sammy has enough on his plate, he’ll wait until the time is right, sometime out of the radio station, when he can _really_ talk to Sammy about this.

He ends up not getting the chance, because two weeks to the day after Jack disappears, Greg Frickard is on the line.

“I mean, Jack probably _deserved_ it after all. I mean, the rainbows were a little too ironic, right?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sammy says into the phone, not bothering to bleep himself, and Ben’s finger hovers over the button, waiting for the slightest indication to dump the call.

“We all heard it!” Greg says. “I mean, I always knew you were a faggot but I thought better of him –”

“You shut the fuck up about him right now,” Sammy says, “you don’t know anything about him, or me, so get the fuck out of my life, do you understand me?”

Sammy’s hand pushes past Ben’s to dump the call, and then he’s tearing off his headphones, crossing the room, and punching the door. Ben stares at the small hole in their door as Sammy towers over it, shaking and breathing heavily.

“Folks, I’m putting on a tape for the evening,” Ben says quietly, letting Sammy stand there and breathe for a moment. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

He crosses the room to Sammy, gingerly puts a hand on his arm. Sammy doesn’t respond.

“It’s okay,” Ben says quietly. “It’s…it’s just a door. I didn’t think you were strong enough to break it, but…it’s an old door. We’ll get a new one.”

“Sorry,” Sammy mutters, still not looking at Ben, still not moving at all, until Ben steps between him and the door, putting himself directly in Sammy’s line of vision, even if he’s still looking steadfastly past Ben.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ben says. “Sammy – please just tell me. You know I love you no matter what, right? But – you and Jack. Please just tell me.”

Sammy lets out a bitter laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But –” Ben starts, then realizes. “Oh. You. You were _going_ to – oh.”

“Yeah,” Sammy says, staring at his fist, where his knuckles are ripped and going to bruise.

“And here I was thinking you had some problem with him,” Ben laughs, strained. “You could’ve told me anytime, you know.”

“I know,” Sammy says quietly, finally relaxing his shoulders, just slightly, curling in on himself as he turns away from Ben. “I just – I don’t tell anybody. Especially not here.”

“In King Falls?” Ben clarifies, and Sammy nods. “Did you tell people when you…when you lived in Denver?”

“No,” Sammy says, the memory tight and painful but nothing compared to the agony of today. “I – Greg knew. I was in the bathroom with some guy in high school – Greg walked in. He’s the only person here who’s ever known. And then in Denver –”

Something harrowing twists in his gut. “I was a shock jock. Shock jocks aren’t – I mean, I had this boyfriend on the production team, but when we broke things off – he told everyone. I got fired, I had to come home, I –”

“They _fired_ you?” Ben asks and Sammy almost laughs at how righteously indignant he sounds. “That – that can’t be legal, man.”

Sammy shrugs. “I didn’t want to stay anyway. Not when everyone knew. I can’t – I can’t deal with people knowing. Here in King Falls – fuck, everyone’s known me all my life. They’d never look at me the same way.”

“You never fit in,” Ben says slowly, and then tentatively reaches out, touching Sammy’s arm, and Sammy doesn’t pull back. Ben moves to hug Sammy tightly; he doesn’t hug back, but he doesn’t pull away either.

“I – I can’t do this,” Sammy says, swaying slightly, but Ben holds him steady. “Jack’s gone and – and now everyone’s gonna know, everyone’s gonna stare –”

“You’ll be okay –” Ben tries, but Sammy cuts him off with a barking and bitter laugh.

“It’s not _like_ you, Ben – your girlfriend’s missing and the town swoons at the Romeo and Juliet of it all, talks about what a good boy you are, how sorry they feel. My – my – _Jack’s_ missing and people say he deserves it and I get called a faggot over the radio.”

Ben can’t do anything but hold Sammy tightly as he starts to cry. He can’t argue. Sammy’s right. It’s not going to be the same situation, not at all.

“I’ll just like, beat them up,” Ben mutters, and Sammy lets out a sound that sounds like maybe it’s halfway to being a laugh. “You know I’ll – I’ll treat you just the same, no matter what anyone else says. It’ll still be the same with me. And I’ll help you – we can find Jack. We can find Jack and we can find Emily.”

“We know what took Jack,” Sammy says, letting go of Ben, trying to move away, but Ben grabs his arm to keep him nearby. “I don’t – I don’t know what to do. Maybe I deserved this, thinking I could actually be with –”

“You don’t deserve this,” Ben says with complete finality. Sammy loves him for it, even if he doesn’t believe it. “ _No one_ deserves this. Not even fucking Greg Frickard – oh, alright, maybe Greg Frickard.”

Sammy smiles, just a little.

“I don’t know much about… _this_ , because I can’t,” Ben says, knowing what he needs to say but not quite how to get the words out. “But I know about loss. Fuck, I know about loss, Sammy. And I can help you with that, support you with that, just like you’ve supported me, and we can get Jack back.”

Sammy shakes his head. “No – I – I’m not going to be able to, I’m useless – you changed your whole life for Emily, Ben. Left behind your promising career to come to this hellhole of a town – I would never be able to do something like that – you deserve to find Emily, Ben, she’s your – she’s your _everything_. Jack’s just – just this handsome guy I was in love with and was too cowardly to say it out loud.”

“Then we’d better work on getting him back so that you can say it out loud when you see him again,” Ben says, stubborn as ever, and Sammy does love him for it. “We’re doing this together, Sammy. We’re gonna find Jack and Emily – you’re going to tell Jack Wright you love him and I’m going to marry Emily Potter. It’s a deal, alright? We’re shaking on it.”

Sammy looks like he’s going to run away – feels like he’s going to run away – but Ben sticks out his hand, looking straight up at Sammy expectantly, and Sammy can’t say no to him.

He takes Ben’s hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So.  
> This post: https://memefallsam.tumblr.com/post/175096202739/not-a-headcanon-but-an-au-ben-comes-to-king-falls
> 
> Initially, I was just like - no. Absolutely not. Cute idea, but it doesn't work. King Falls AM has incredible writing, and the way they do that is that the characters and their narratives are inextricably linked to the plot. The plot is the characters. Sammy and Ben switching places isn't the same story, and it loses the magic of the story, because each of them is so well-suited for their unique role in the telling of the story. The plot isn't driven by outside forces, it's driven by the two of them, their decisions, their histories, the way they interact with the world around them.
> 
> Not to mention, my absolute favorite thing about the show: a gay character has a gay narrative. Sammy's narrative is the most queer-themed narrative I've ever seen. The themes of his story all revolve around his sexuality; his sexuality informs everything about him. I absolutely love it. To put him in Ben's role, to try to fit this uniquely gay story within the Ben/Emily plot, just makes no sense. And even worse is to impose Ben and Emily over Sammy and Jack's relationship when so much of what happens to them is informed by their sexuality. Plus, the parallels of their narratives - Ben as the constant, the loud, the visible, and Sammy silently running underneath everything - that's some incredibly themed storytelling.
> 
> And then I was like, fuck it, start from scratch. Sammy's in Ben's shoes and Ben's in Sammy's. How do their personalities and traits inform different decisions they make, and how can I transfer each of their themes (especially the gay ones) into each other's plots?
> 
> So anyway, this is half role reversal AU, half a disguised critical theory essay. I loved writing this because if I'm gay and from a small town, and Sammy's gay and from a small town, then who's projecting every emotion they've ever felt onto a fictional character??? That's right. You guessed it.
> 
> This is a long fucking author's note, but I wanted to explain a bit of my thought process because while it is a role reversal, it's much less cut and dry than that, because the characters are too complex and to flatten their differences by trying to fit square pegs in round holes would be against my soul that's made only of critical analysis, thanks. Hope everyone enjoyed the fic!


End file.
